


Different Looks & Matching Hearts

by charliebradcherry



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Anxious Castiel, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, High School Best Friends, Jock Dean, Junior Castiel, Junior Dean, M/M, Nerd Castiel, Overprotective Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 12:06:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7573423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliebradcherry/pseuds/charliebradcherry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel plans on meeting a guy he's been talking to over the internet. His anxiety kicks in again and he worries that he won't be good enough, but Dean is there to reassure him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Different Looks & Matching Hearts

“What if he doesn’t like the way I dress?”

Dean and Castiel simultaneously stared down at his mismatching red and blue socks. The jeans he wore was half-torn, the seams stretched out evenly and a big warm sweater that hid his naked arms even during the middle of summer. People always shot him these vulgar remarks for his thin figure, so Castiel preferred covering himself up to prevent that from happening again. He always came back home with his shirt soaked in sweat.

“‘Why wouldn’t they like the way you dress?’ I think is the real question here.” Dean smiled, bending his body over his knees to gracefully poke at one of Castiel’s shoes in a playful manner before leaning back into his friend’s shoulder, “It makes you look like a nerd.”

“Is that a good thing?” Cas demanded, tilting his head with a puzzled look.

“Of course that’s a good thing. You have an original style. I mean, look at me,” Dean stretched his arms out, “I’m wearin’ a leather jacket with tight jeans and heavy black boots. Even my hair is unkept. Seems kinda cliché to me, don’t ya think?”

Cas swung his legs back and forth under the bunk.

“You jocks are way cooler, though.” he muttered under his breath, his blue eyes dull as he glanced down at the ground, “It’s obvious that I’ll never get anywhere with the way I dress even though I really like it.”

“Well, so do I. Fuck what others think, dude. People are jerks.” Dean shrugged and nudged Cas’ shoulder with his own, “Hey, you don’t have to change for somebody else’s pleasure. Be yourself, ya know?”

Castiel felt his own lips twitch in response. He couldn’t repress the small smile that tugged at his mouth and just ended up giggling a little unwillingly.

“Oh joy.”

“What?” Dean asked, tilting his head to catch Castiel’s face when he bowed his body a little as he continued, his tittering turning into laughter. Then, he leaned back against the bunk, his head tipped back and the wind swiping his dark hair back and forth, “What is it, what’s so funny?”

“You - you, I just–”

Castiel forced his laughter to die down after a while, and swallowed all of his sounds down to make it stop. There was a moment of silence where Dean expected his friend to retrieve him out of his confusion and explain to him what was so hilarious, but those thoughts vanished as soon as he distinguished small tears leaking from Cas’ eyes.

“Oh God, are you –” Dean scooted closer immediately, putting a hospitable hand on the younger kid’s shoulder. He winced and sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. Alas, recomforting someone was one of his weak points. “Fuck, I – Cas, what’s wrong?”

Cas took a deep, shaky breath before he blinked his eyes and wiped the tears away that tickled his flushed skin, “Just… the idea that we’re having this conversation right now. It can be comforting for about a minute, until you realize that it won’t exactly change anything. I’m a Junior student but in the eye of everyone else in my school, I look like a twelve year old.”

“Well, remember in ninth grade when I dressed like a douchebag because I was so assertive around girls?”

“Yeah…” Castiel sniffled, “Lisa’s group thought you looked ridiculous.”

“Look at me now. I’m in my Junior year and I still dress like a douchebag.”

Castiel eyed Dean up and down for a second, before shyly glancing to the ground and laughing a little.

“And that guy you’re going to be with one day won’t give a shit about how you dress,” Dean said, simpering. “He will be good for you, I promise.”

* * *

  
“What if he doesn’t like books?”

Dean glanced up from his phone over at Cas who sat on his bed, comfortably lying with his belly resting on the mattress while staring down at Dean’s homework paper. It was mathematics, something that he loathed wholeheartedly. But fortunately, Cas was a straight A student who was available a good percentage of the time to come over to tutor him and correct his mistakes.

Later on, they’d just hang out and go out for a drink or a walk anyway.

Dean was about to open his mouth, but Cas quickly cut him off before he could.

“No, I–I mean like… what if he thinks that studying or going out to libraries together is for nerds and would rather… makeout and uhm…”

Castiel blushed a bright red and rolled himself over the bed to sit, his bare feet making contact with the cold, wooden floor. He wasn’t really used to just say that word. It wasn’t that it made him feel uncomfortable or anything, but hearing himself say it just sounded strange and embarrassing.

“Fuck?” Dean raised his eyebrow quizzically

“Yeah.”

“Simple. You call me and I’ll kick his face in for you.”

“Dean!”

“What?” he snorted and shrugged, “I might dress like a complete asshole, but I’m not one unless you mess up a date between yourself and my best friend that has been looking out for it for so long and has been talking to me about it for what seems like a freakin’ year. Trust me, I’ll get angry fast. And if the guy has something against nerds and wants to keep you distanced from your local libraries, well then he’s a shitlord. Like Charlie always says, 'You do you, baby boo’ and you’ll be a-okay.”

Castiel sunk back and subconsciously just began tracing predictable patterns over the wooden floor with his foot. The homework paper was already long forgotten in the background.

“You wouldn’t really hurt him, right?”

“Only if I have to,” Dean replied, a tongue poking between his lips as he typed something on his phone, “If he hurts you, he’ll get my shoe stuck up in his ass.”

At that, Castiel grinned and leaned back against the solid dark wall of Dean’s room and returned his fullest attention on the paper as he was supposed to correct the few mistakes of Dean’s equations.

“That guy you’re going to meet one day won’t give a shit if you’re a nerd or not,” Dean reminded him once he finished texting and put his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. He walked over to see which answers on his exercises were underligned by Cas to determine the mistakes he made. “He will be good for you, I promise.”

* * *

  
“What if I’m not good enough?”

Castiel knew that this wasn’t the right time to ask such boring ass unimportant questions, especially when it was this late in the night and Dean was attempting his best to fall asleep. But he couldn’t help it, these insecurities about himself were exasperatingly bothersome.

He had a question to ask everyday, and it’s not like Dean wouldn’t ever get irritated of them at some point, but he hadn’t shown a sign of apathy yet. He had always been very attentive much to Cas’ surprise.

Dean, with his cheek squished against his pillow, his arms resting under them and both of his eyes shut, muttered some incoherent words under his breath. A thread of vague sentences that sounded more like 'that’s not true’ and 'you’re cool’, mostly just weak blabbering that came from Dean’s subconscious mind which didn’t exactly reassure Cas.

Well, who was he to disturb Dean’s sleep like that anyway? At this hour, he should just keep his mouth shut and hope that he wouldn’t wake up with anxiety the next morning.

“Why’d ya thin’ tha’ ?”

Castiel stiffened into the couch he lied on, his eyes flying back open in a mere split-second, before he relaxed and shifted against the uncomfortable leather that was sticking to his skin  and sighed.

“I dunno,” he said, “Maybe I won’t be everything what he initially expected me to be.”

He heard Dean snort from the other side of the room, and a heavy groan with a squeaky sound of the bed as he moved around on the mattress.

Click.

“Why’d you turn the lights on?” Cas groaned a little, squinting his eyes to adjust to the brighteness of the small lamp on Dean’s nightstand that lit up a good fragment of the room.

“'Cause it seems to me like you wanna talk.”

“It’s fine, we can talk about it tomorrow or something. It’s close to midnight anyway, and…” he gulped and rolled on his side, looking at Dean with an apologetic expression, “I shouldn’t have tried talking to you this late. Plus frankly, this daily questionnaire that I’m throwing at your face is completely foolish and I don’t want to keep persistently badgering you about my personal issues.”

Dean’s face crumbled into bewilderment, and not even a minute later, he quickly paced across the room to join his side and sit on the edge of the couch he lied on.

“You ain’t aggravating me at all, if that’s really what you’re thinkin’ right now.” he said, a tone of worry leaking from the words that didn’t seem fake in the slightest. Cas had to make sure that he wasn’t just saying that to make him feel better, but he didn’t recognize a hint fake sympathy and his heart warmed at that.

“Really?” Cas whispered, blinking lazily his way as sleep started to take control over his mind. He had a hard time keeping his eyes open, now.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, dude.” Dean smiled down at him, placing his hand on his cheek and patting it lightly in a sign of affection. “Even at two in the morning, I’ll tell ya right now – you can break into my house to shake me awake because you either forgot to buy a pack of twelve eggs for your mother’s birthday cake tomorrow like a doof or you’re in need of a quick pep talk about somethin’ and I woudn’t give two shits. My ears are always open.”

Cas managed to smile through his weariness and buried the side of his head deeper into his pillow.

“Thanks Dean,” he said quietly, “That’s really all I needed to hear right now.”

“No problem, Cas. You can stay over another day if ya like, I really don’t mind.” Dean told him as he leaned over to pull the thick blanket over Cas’ body so he wouldn’t catch cold, and moved to stand up again. “Now quit worrying like a rocking chair and invite some rest. You are enough, alright? That guy you’ll be kissy-kissin’ in five days will be good for you, I promise.”

* * *

  
“What if he doesn’t show up?”

This is the big day, and Castiel can’t help but throw all of these questions around again as he’s staring at his own reflection revealed into the mirror in front of him. His eyes convey anticipation mixed with concern, and there are question marks floating all around his head. He knows that he shouldn’t be feeling like this, but his anxiety was something that he couldn’t exactly control. It occured unbiddenly.

Dean stood by his side, a supportive hand placed on the small of his back with a pleased look on his face.

“He wouldn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

“That’s corny.”

“I know, shut up.”

They both shot into uncontrollable laughter, and Dean fought to urge to grab Cas’ head and give him a noogie. It would make a mess of his hair.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Yeah?”

Dean gave in a wicked grin.

“Tell your guy you’ve got a pal that will beat the shit out of him if he tries anything stupid on  you.”

Cas lightly punched him in the shoulder and rolled his eyes, “Forget it.”

“I figured you’d say that.” Dean laughed and sat at the end of Cas’ bed, “But all jokes aside, you know where to find me if anything goes wrong. Like I said a few days ago, you’re the only person that I allow to break into my house at night when something’s not right. There are spare keys under the doormat and in the bushes contouring the outside of my lawn.”

“Or I can just call you.”

“Sure ya can, but I sleep like a rock, so I most likely won’t hear my ringtone go off before one in the morning which is why I recommend either throwing a rock at my window to break the glass and climb the vines on the wall to get in or simply just use the spare keys like a normal person would do.” Dean jested and watched as Castiel sat down near him with a nervous sigh, “Come on, man. I’m sure the guy ya like will be good for you, I promise.”

* * *

  
There were no questions this time. Only loneliness and tranquility, except for the sound of his antique clock ticking in the back of the room and a bell that went off, resonating throughout the entire house the moment the clock-hand indicated midnight.

Perhaps Dean wasn’t going to see Castiel back again for a while after this particular day. Well, not regularly anyway. Not like the way they used to hang out all the time, weekend after weekend, Wednesday evenings or even the night after school.

Cas had someone now.

Dean was proud of him, without a doubt. But now he was the one to be stuck with a million questions circling his head to ponder on for the rest of the night.

He hadn’t eaten a single thing before going to bed, hadn’t even thought about it as he stomped his way up the stairs like a caveman. Dean wasn’t angry, just exhausted and in need of a pillow to lie his weary head on.

Then, the unthinkable happened. He had to deal with a twisting stomach, which was something that he didn’t really ask for. He realized that that’s how Castiel must’ve felt the entire time.

It was, as Cas called it, anxiety.

Dean couldn’t remember if he had fallen asleep, all he knew was that his phone was buzzing on the nightstand near his bed and it was ready to fall off of the edge. He caught it quickly before it could, rolled onto his back and pushed himself further back against the headboard of his bed to read the caller’s ID that was displayed on the screen.

“Cas?” he answered and cleared his throat when he noticed that his voice sounded deep and cracking.

He could hear shallow breathing on the other end of the line.

“Dean…”

The unusual emptiness of Castiel’s voice slightly worried him, “Cas, what’s wrong? Why are you calling me? Did something happen?”

“Just… Cambridge street… please…”

Dean was out of his bed in a heartbeat, the phone stuck between his shoulder and ear while telling Cas to stay on the line and not go anywhere. He partly stumbled over the floor to go grab his pants and a jacket before hurrying down the stairs like a fool who was late at work and run inside of his car.

As soon as he hit the gas, there were tiny droplets of rain splattering over his windshield and he cussed before pulling his wipers out.

“Cas, it’s raining. Tell me you have at least something to cover yourself.”

“I have a sweater…”

“A sweater, of course, typical Cas,” Dean chuckled nervously, trying to light the mood a little as his eyes skimmed over the horizon, his fingers drumming over the steering wheel, “That’s alright for now, just try to find somewhere to shelter, 'kay? I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”

The streets were fortunately less busy at night and that was something that Dean was extremely grateful for. Though he grew less patient the more he had to wait in front of every traffic light that crossed his path.

“I’m almost there, I promise.”

“I believe you.” Cas whispered, and Dean noticed just how truly sad and wounded he sounded, “Joy, I do.”

It was a ride filled with words of reassurance, that it was all going to be alright, that he was going to pull Castiel out of whatever misery he had walked himself into, and kept mentally repeating to himself that he’d take care of his friend.

Once Dean caught Cas sitting on a bench under the rain, half of his body bent and shaking with the phone still pressed tightly against his ear, he kicked the door of his Impala open and ran out to join him. Through the rain, he could tell whether it were tears dripping from Castiel’s chin or just water as Dean kneeled down in front of him and cradled the kid’s face with his hands.

His hair was soaked along with his sweater, and those blue eyes didn’t sparkle with blitheness like they always did. They were starless and dark like blue ink, completely lifeless.

“He didn’t show up.”

Dean’s throat constricted as he watched Castiel release a deep breath and stare straight into nothingness, as if he was lost, as if he was blind, as if he couldn’t see the expression of sheer worry on Dean’s face.

“We called, we spoke, we’d meet here at this little bunk under the apple tree,” Castiel pursued, rain dripping from his eyelashes and onto his cheeks. “And he didn’t show up.”

“Cas,” Dean started, voice gentle, “Look at me.”

Castiel was already looking at him, just through him, like he was plexigass, like he was invisible, like he was talking to himself or an imaginary person.

“I said, _look at me_ , god damn it!” Dean forced through gritted teeth, lightly shaking Cas with trembling hands.

“I was so stupid to think that this was going to work out. I mean, I had my doubts, I had questions and it never once hit me. Not _once_ ,” Cas sucked in another breath, and suddenly, he blinked, looking directly into Dean’s meadow green eyes as if he was seeking for a place of solace as he said, “I am different.”

Dean whimpered and kissed his mouth shut.

* * *

  
There was a time where Castiel had to worry about the way he dressed, about being mocked for being a nerd, about his partner not showing up, about the notion that he would never be enough for anybody.

Because he was different.

But lying with his head on Dean’s chest and listening to the sound of his heartbeats at night melted his anxiety away, the noise of movie soundtracks and people talking as Dean was busy zapping channels on television becoming indistinct to his ears when sleep took over him. Being to someone this close, being comforted by love made it easier this way while familiar long fingers spread across his scalp and began kneading.

Dean showed up for Cas, whenever.

Dean wasn’t a big nerd himself, but he admired that aspect about Cas nonetheless.

Dean told him daily that he was enough.

And most importantly, Dean loved Cas for being himself…

“Dean?”

“Mhm?”

He yawned softly, snuggling closer into Dean’s chest, “You promised me he’d be good for me,” he murmured, a smile displaying on his lips as Dean had put the remote control down to fully wrap his arms around him, “And you were right. He is good for me.”

…which was all that Castiel really needed.


End file.
